


In Dreams He Came To Me

by srmarybadass



Series: Gardens of Gethsemane [2]
Category: The Bible, True Blood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-23
Updated: 2012-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-30 00:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmarybadass/pseuds/srmarybadass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Godric gets a wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Dreams He Came To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted to LJ in August of 2009.  
> ...still waiting for that lightning bolt.

The dying is not as bad as Godric had imagined. He had suffered worse pain from silver. A bolt of blissful pain, blinding heat- _sunrise_ , for the first time in two millennia- and then suddenly, he is sitting in front of a desk in a large, white room.

 

This surprises him, but not much, because he is- _was_ \- very old, and not much will shock him anymore. Besides, how could he have been surprised when he had no idea what to expect? A desk, though....that was odd.

 

Then the door opens, and in walks a man that Godric is sure he has seen somewhere before. Once, he would have been the unassuming type, able to blend into a crowd, but that was long ago and now the bearded, simply dressed man would stand out in a crowd of shiny, polished humans.

 

“Godric,” he says, taking a seat from across the former vampire. “Welcome. We have been expecting you.”

 

“Where am I?” Godric asks.

 

“In my office,” the man replies. “Normally we would just send you straight to my father's house, but I wanted to talk with you first. We have met before.”

 

Godric tilts his head to the side and casts back his memory as far as he can go.

 

“Mount of Olives,” Godric finally says. “You were in the garden that night.”

 

The man nods. “You did as I asked, and I felt that I should return the favor.”

 

“Thank you, sir, very much, but I have not done anything for you,” Godric says, confused. “I do not deserve any such kindness.”

 

“You remembered,” the man informs him. “You remembered my message, you spread it, and, above all, you _believed_ it. Now, what may I do for you?”

 

Godric thinks for a moment, but his thoughts continually revolve back to one thing- the devastation on Eric's face when he realized that his maker was going to die. Leaving him like that on the roof...that had not been fair to his child.

 

“My- my Eric,” Godric says slowly. “I... is there any way that I may speak to him? Comfort him?”

 

“I thought that might be it,” the man grins. “Love is the one thing that transcends death, no matter what.”

 

“So I _am_ dead?” Godric double-checks.

 

The man nods. “We prefer the term 'second life', although in your case it's more like a third.”

 

He opens a previously unseen drawer in the desk, shuffles some paper around, and closes it. Then he looks up at Godric. “I can fix it so that you may visit him in dreams. Will that work?”

 

“That would be _wonderful_ ,” Godric smiles. To see Eric, to converse, even if only in slumber- “How?”

 

The man reaches across the desk and touches the tips of his fingers to Godric's forehead. It tingles for a minute. “There. Close your eyes and think of him.”

 

Godric does.

 

 

 _“Eric. Eric. Eric!”_

 _The slumbering vampire is walking through the shadow-world of dreams, and from out of the smoke walks the figure he knows better than his own._

 _“Godric.” A prayer._

 _“Don't be sad, Eric.”_

 _“But you're gone!” Eric cries._

 _“I'm not. I'm with you, always, whether you see me or not. So long as you are, I am.”_

 _The voice is drifting, back into the smoke._

 _“No! Don't leave! Not again!” Eric shouts, ready to tear apart his dreams with his bare hands to restore Godric._

 _“I will return, Eric. I promise.”_

 _“Farewell, then,” Eric says, the sadness having receded only slightly._

 _“I love you.”_

 _And then Eric wakes._

 

 

Godric opens his eyes, and he is back in the white room. His face is damp with tears, and to his joy, they are clear. No longer will he weep blood.

 

And the man is smiling at him, before getting up from his seat. “Come on,” he says, taking Godric's hand and leading him to the door.

 

“Who _are_ you?” Godric asks.

 

The man shrugs. “I am who I am. Now, let's go see my father.”


End file.
